


Just Enough

by tastethewaste



Category: Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Blow Jobs, Body Image, Established Relationship, I'm not sorry, M/M, Size Kink, Some Fluff, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, chubby Taron, this is literally just a story about Taron being soft and chubby and Richard loving it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-18 21:40:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20319922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastethewaste/pseuds/tastethewaste
Summary: Taron's too chubby to fit in his pants anymore and Richard doesn't know why he likes it so much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Please heed all the tags and know that the story you're about to read features chubby Taron and kind of a weight kink thing, so if that is triggering to you or something that you don't like, this won't be the story for you. Everyone else, thanks for reading!

“T, _come on_, we’re meeting Jamie and Kate in an hour, and I’ve no idea where the restaurant is, let’s get a move on!” Richard called from his spot on the couch. He was dressed already, been dressed for ages, in a pair of expensive jeans and a soft navy blue sweater that brought out the grey streak in his hair. He’d always been self-conscious of it, but Taron loved it-couldn’t get enough of it, actually- and he’d learned to embrace this small quirk of his. 

“I’m not going!” Richard heard faintly from across the flat, Taron’s voice sounding tiny and frustrated as it drifted from their bedroom. Richard groaned and shoved himself off of the couch, making his way towards their room. Taron was very hot or cold when it came to their plans; he was either over-the-moon about them or sullen and pouting, begging to stay home and just cuddle on the couch while a movie played in the background. To be fair, that was an evening well spent for Richard as well, but they’d made a commitment. When Richard got to their room, Taron, shirtless and wearing only a pair of pants, had his back to him, and he paused in the doorway.

“You _are_ going, we never see Jamie anymore and you’ve been looking forward to this for ages. What’s gotten into you?” Richard asked exasperatedly. He crossed his arms and tilted his head. 

“I’m just not _going_, okay?” Taron mumbled, his back still to Richard. 

“That’s not a reason, love. Listen, I know sometimes you get nervous or whatever before going out, but…”

“That’s not it.” 

Richard paused. “Then what could possibly be wrong?” 

Taron sighed dramatically, then whirled around to face Richard. “I’m _fat,_that’s what’s wrong!” Taron wailed, his hands settling on his hips and revealing the real cause of his distress. He was wearing a pair of jeans that Richard recognized as his favorite. They were soft and worn and stretched out from years of wear. The problem, however, was glaringly obvious: his tummy stuck out just far enough, was just _thick_ enough, that Richard could tell the jeans wouldn’t button. As if reading his mind, Taron tried to force the sides of his jeans together, sucking in as much as he could and mushing his belly trying to get the button to meet the hole, to no avail. 

Richard was still in the doorway as he watched Taron struggle to fit into his pants, and his brain was warring with him on what his first, instinctual reaction was. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or…_bloody hell_, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to laugh or shove him over onto the bed and feel every inch of him, dinner plans be damned.

On the one hand, watching his boyfriend, the golden boy who had always paraded that thick arse of his around with confidence, struggle to fit into his jeans was slightly hilarious. On the other hand, he was inexplicably attracted to it, the scenario _and_ Taron’s body, and he couldn’t figure out why or what the hell was going on or how he hadn’t noticed it until now, so he just continued to stand in the doorway, softly biting his lower lip.

“These are my _favorite_ jeans and they don’t fit anymore! I have no idea how this happened but I’m so fat and I refuse to go out, I can’t,” Taron cried, crossing his arms over his chest, a stormy frown settling on his face. Richard had never seen him look so odd, a mixture of sad and frustrated and anxious and embarrassed, all at the same time. 

“You are _not_ fat, love,” Richard said sternly, starting to walk over to Taron with his arms open. His first instinct was to comfort him, it was always the first thing, but Taron backed away from him, just a little, and threw his arms up exasperatedly. 

“I’m not? What do you call this, then, Dickie?” he asked, pushing his jeans down, letting them fall in a pool at his feet, and revealing himself in his nothing but his tight boxer briefs. Richard had to concede that he did look chubbier this way, since it was clear his underwear was far too tight. Taron did a lazy pirouette, turning around so Richard got a 360 degree view, and he actually gasped a little when he saw Taron’s arse. It was certainly bigger than before, but it was _good_, fuck it was good and Richard had no idea what was going on or why he just wanted to sink his teeth into it. 

“Oh, your bum,” Richard heard himself saying softly, barely audible, but Taron picked it up. 

“My arse is _huge_,” he wailed despondently, and Richard wrapped an arm around Taron impulsively, tugging him closer so their bodies were flush against each other. Taron buried his face into Richard’s sweater. 

“Okay. So you’re not in...well, you’re not in _Kingsman_ shape anymore, right? Who gives a shit? Nothing wrong with your _Eddie the Eagle_ chub, love,” Richard said teasingly, dropping a kiss on the top of Taron’s head. Taron looked up at him, his eyes wide, and pulled away. 

“This is way more than _Eddie_ chub, Rich. Look at me,” Taron said, giving his middle a soft jiggle, the same miserable look still on his face. Richard had to concede that Taron was right; not by much, maybe, but he was certainly thicker than he’d ever been before. 

Richard had seen Taron at his physical peak before, of course--at least on film. Back when he’d just been secretly wanking over his best mate, he’d watched most of T’s work at the time- both _Kingsman_ movies, that mini-series _The Smoke_, and even that mediocre _Robin Hood_ movie-so he’d seen what Taron looked like at his physical peak, on the screen at least. For the time that he’d known him, Taron’s muscles and slim physique had been what T playfully referred to as ‘in hiding’.

They didn’t discuss each other’s weight or fitness often; if their sex life was any indication, they each liked the way the other looked just _fine_, thank you very much. In fact, until now, Taron had only brought up his body once. Richard had been off to the gym, bag in hand; Taron had been perched on the couch, mindlessly watching telly while eating popcorn. 

“Can come if you like,” Richard had offered in an offhand way, shoving his feet into his trainers. 

Taron had laughed, half-choking on his popcorn. “Oh, mate, I can’t _stand_ the gym. Don’t get me wrong, I know what to do and what to eat to look...well, to look as flawless as you, but I’m not meant to look like that. This is my baseline,” he’d said, gesturing at his (then much smaller) middle. Taron was meant to be slightly stocky, it seemed.

He’d certainly edged out of the ‘slightly stocky’ territory now, but Richard just tugged him into the same one-armed hug from before, pressing his lips to Taron’s temple reassuringly. 

“You know I don’t give a shit about this, right? I love every bit of you, whatever that looks like. No matter what. Okay?” Richard said quietly. He felt Taron nod, barely, his face still pressed into Richard’s chest. 

“Dunno how you could love a big tub of goo,” Taron’s muffled voice barely hit Richard’s ears.

“Hey.” Richard pulled away a bit, tilted Taron’s face up so they were making eye contact. Richard leaned down and kissed Taron exactly the way he _knew_ he liked, soft and urgent at the same time, nibbling on his lower lip. “You’re being too hard on yourself. I know how stressed you’ve been lately over not getting that role—“ Taron sighed—“and I think maybe this is how it’s all coming out.”

Taron was quiet, and Richard figured he was thinking about all the extra comfort eating he’d been doing lately after the disappointment of losing out on a role he’d really been hoping for. Richard had noticed, but hadn’t really given it much thought, and he supposed neither of them had until now. Taron nodded, still looking up at Richard. 

“If you want to, we can eat better. You said it before, you know what to eat and how to work out. You can lose this easily, love. But don’t be so mean to yourself. You’re not _fat_, you’re just...a little pudgy,” Richard said. 

They were still for a moment, neither of them speaking, Taron seeming to take in what Richard had said.

Suddenly, Richard found his free hand drifting in between them, one finger gently stroking the soft skin of Taron’s tummy. His finger charted the outline of his belly slowly, softly, neither of them knowing what was going on. Taron’s eyes met Richard’s again, confusion igniting them, and Richard was acutely aware of his heart beating in his chest. His finger continued its exploration, finally tracing the outline of Taron’s belly button and the soft skin inside. At that, Taron drew in a quick, sharp breath, the strange spell between them broken, and pushed himself away. 

“What are ya _doin’_, Rich?” Taron asked quietly, his cheeks furiously red with the blush that had risen there. 

Richard shrugged half-heartedly, taking a couple of steps closer to Taron. “I...I don’t know. I just wanted to...I _had to_...know what it felt like.” 

Taron narrowed his eyes slightly, not in anger but in curiosity. “You wanted to know what my stomach felt like?” 

Richard nodded, feeling his own cheeks start to pinken. This was new territory for both of them, and he, truthfully, had no idea where it was coming from. He frowned slightly when he realized that Taron was sucking his tummy in, making himself as small as possible. “Yeah, I did. I think…” Richard stepped closely to Taron and took his hand gently, guiding it slowly down until it was resting over the bulge in his jeans. “I think I liked it.” 

Taron closed his eyes and exhaled, letting his belly expand back to normal. Richard’s mouth went dry at the sight of it. “Fuck,” Taron exhaled. 

Richard nodded, and settled his hands on Taron’s waist, marveling at the softness of his love handles. “Yeah, fuck,” he whispered, and then they were kissing, hungrily, their mouths tearing at each other. Richard kissed a line along Taron’s jaw, smiling slightly at the fact that its sharpness was slightly less discernible since his face had filled out as well. He sucked roughly at the skin on Taron’s neck, nibbling harshly, and Taron gasped. 

“Get...these...off…” Taron moaned in between gasps as he fumbled at Richard’s waist, trying to undo his belt. It reminded him of their fumblings on set, as John Reid and Elton, and _Christ_, that was the first time he’d realized how beautiful Richard was, and somewhere in the back of his mind that was currently being blown out by pleasure, he realized that he’d never dared to dream that things in his life could be as maddening and beautiful and weird and _lovely_ as they were now. 

Richard’s clothes were shucked to the floor, and in turn, he started to ease Taron’s underwear off his hips. He pushed him down backwards on the bed, gently, not too rough, and climbed in with him, straddling Taron’s body. He resumed kissing him, starting with his mouth and working his way down. He kissed a trail down Taron’s chest, gently sucking on one of his nipples, pausing slightly when he got down to his belly. Taron looked at him, slight worry in his eyes, knowing that, on the one hand, this had all started because of Richard’s strange attraction to his new figure, but worrying on the other hand that he’d just been playing at it. 

Richard delivered the smallest, softest kiss to Taron’s tummy-an action that felt so gentle and felt so _kind_ after how self conscious he’d been that Taron actually almost cried, right there-and then all thoughts of anything but Richard’s mouth had flown out the window. 

“Your fucking _thighs,_ T, they’re out of _control_,” Richard said, sounding half out of his mind with pleasure. Taron’s thighs had always been one of Richard’s favorite parts of his body, but some of the weight he’d put on had gone straight there, and they were even softer and bigger and _fuck_. Richard let out a low growl and couldn’t help it, he bit the inside of Taron’s left thigh, and T’s cock jumped. 

“_Fuck,_” Taron moaned, arching his back. “_Please_, Rich, I swear…” 

Richard took one more nibble of the soft, irresistible flesh of his thighs before taking Taron’s cock in his mouth. He sucked him off in earnest, Taron’s hands tangled in Richard’s sweaty hair, his hips bucking in response. Richard stopped several times, let Taron _beg_ for it, T’s breath coming in short, hot spurts as he moaned, until his cock was going off like a rocket in Richard’s mouth. Richard’s turn came mere moments later, as he looked up at Taron and saw his eyes closed, his face sweaty, and watched his soft potbelly jiggle slightly when he threw himself backwards on the mattress. 

They laid next to each other afterwards, Taron’s arm slung around Richard’s shoulder and Richard’s head laying on Taron’s soft chest and his hand resting gently on Taron’s tummy. They were both spent and exhausted and more comfortable than either of them had been in a little while, but there were questions flying between them. Questions about what had just happened, what it meant for either of their proclivities. 

Taron, true to his character, was the first one to speak up. “I have no _fucking_ clue what just happened or why you like Fat Me, but that was the best blowjob I’ve ever had, fucking hell.” 

Richard laughed, very nearly _guffawed_ at the boldness of his statement. “I’ve no idea where that came from either, but I very much enjoy you this way,” he said, pinching Taron’s belly gently. 

A few more minutes went by before Richard sat up suddenly, a look of panic on his face. “Oh, fuck,” he muttered, disentangling himself from Taron and rushing out into the living room. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” Taron called lazily, his eyes already starting to drift shut. He was always sleepy after a good shag, and this counted, definitely. 

Richard grabbed his phone and saw he had two missed calls from Jamie and three texts from him, as well. 

_Kate and I are here, we’ve got a table  
Where are you guys?_

_So help me god if you’re standing us up because you fell in the sack together…_

Richard went back into the bedroom and waved his phone at Taron. “We were supposed to meet Jamie twenty minutes ago!”

“Fuck,” Taron said, sliding out of bed and looking around the room. He then stopped, a huge grin playing on his face. “Eh, oh, well.” 

“What do you mean, ‘oh, well’, you prat?” Richard muttered, pulling on his jeans. 

Taron shrugged. “My pants don’t fit anyways.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely feedback on the previous chapter. I got a lot of requests to _expand_ on this (pun intended) and it didn't take much arm twisting ;) Enjoy. This chapter is a bit slow, but I felt like the conversations inside needed to happen based on who this fic is about. It felt like something that would happen between them. Hope you all like it, though. :)

The next morning, Richard woke up before Taron, his eyes fluttering open slowly. He stifled a yawn and stretched, enjoying the feel of the cool sheets against his bare legs. They were twined together, legs touching each other, Taron’s arm slung around his side, his head on Taron’s chest, his hand on Taron’s belly. As the fog of sleep cleared from his brain, he remembered the night before-- the failed dinner with Jamie, the anguish on T’s face, the mind-blowingly hot sex, the confusing way that Taron’s little tummy had made him go almost feral. 

While he was laying there, tangled up in the arms of the man who he was slowly starting to think might be the love of his life, he let himself gaze at Taron frankly. He studied Taron and his body the way he wouldn’t have if the other man had been awake, in a way that would have made him blush or swat Richard away. He was _beautiful_, really, especially in sleep. His long eyelashes brushed his cheeks, and his face was slackened, his mouth hanging open. He looked like a baby when he slept, receding in years. Richard yearned to brush his thumb over his lips, pepper kisses along his jaw. 

Richard’s eyes traveled down Taron’s body, finally lighting on the part of him that he had been most anxious to look at. His hand was still resting on Taron’s tummy, and he gave it the tiniest, softest stroke with his finger. Lying there in bed, stark naked and dead asleep, Taron looked so soft and cuddly, even more so than he had the night before. Richard smiled as he looked him over. 

_He really_ is_ properly chubby now,_ Richard thought with a little smirk. There was no accounting for why he liked it so much. He’d never been into bigger blokes before, but then again, he’d never really given it much thought before. Taron was different than other people, though, that much was certain. He’d never met anyone who bloody _charmed_ him the way T had, never known anyone who could flash a cheeky grin and make him melt, never known anyone who he had wanted to gaze at while they were asleep. He’d _certainly_ never known anyone who could drive him mad just trying to button a pair of pants that were too small. 

Richard found himself slowly massaging Taron’s belly in the pale, early morning sunlight, reveling in the feel of the soft flesh beneath his palms. Taron’s eyes opened slowly, and Richard dropped a kiss on his lips. “Mornin’, love,” he whispered quietly, and Taron looked up at him, blinking slowly into consciousness, his face still puffy and sluggish. 

“Mornin’,” he said groggily, his voice husky with sleep. Richard continued to rub his belly, sneaking little kisses in here and there, which Taron accepted. “What are ya doin’, Dickie?” he asked, leaning his body back into the pillows and relaxing. 

“Dunno,” Richard muttered, because that was the truth. He had no idea why the first thing he had felt the need to do that morning was rub Taron’s belly. “You just...looked so cute that I...” Richard let himself trail off. Taron nodded, and he allowed his body to relax, come to life underneath the soft touch of Richard’s gentle hands. 

The two were silent for a moment, Richard’s hands doing all the talking, until Taron finally spoke up. “Rich?” 

“Mmm?” he murmured, planting a kiss softly on Taron’s belly, much like he had the night before. It was so gentle and soft, Taron thought, unlike almost everything they’d done together before. Not that Richard wasn’t a gentle man, but their natural tendency together leaned towards the intense. Their moments together were about ripping off clothes, pushing each other against walls, biting lips. It was hot and wild and _tender_ all at the same time, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t Richard’s hands, ghosting over this part of himself that he wasn’t entirely happy with, occasionally descending and running down his softer, thicker thigh. 

He wasn’t complaining, because it was just so nice. No one had ever touched him this way before. No one had ever touched him like he was made of glass, like he would break underneath their fingers. No one had ever kissed the vulnerable parts of him without expecting anything in return. No one had _certainly_ ever kissed his pudge softly and smiled up at him the way Richard currently was. 

Taron laced his fingers in Richard’s hair, gently playing with it, his mind lost in thoughts of what was going on between them. 

“Taron. Something on your mind, love?” Richard asked quietly, pinching a generous love handle with a cheeky smile on his face.

“Oh. I just...do you…” Taron shook his head, a slightly stormy look on his face, avoiding Richard’s eyes. Richard looked up at Taron, a concerned frown settling on his face, and waited for Taron to finish. When he didn’t, Richard propped himself up on his arm. 

“What’sa matter, darlin’? You can tell me. Whatever it is,” Richard said earnestly. He wasn’t used to Taron looking so vulnerable. He’d always loved how easily affable Taron was, his easy confidence, the way he was almost always smiling. He had his moments, of course, everyone did, but he wasn’t used to seeing him this way. 

Taron sighed and shifted, minutely, away from Richard. “D’you really like this, Rich?” he murmured, laying his own hand on his little belly. 

Richard’s eyebrows were furrowed, confused. “I...T, _yes_, I like it. I love you, you know? What part of our romp last night would’ve given you the impression that I didn’t like it?” Richard asked, looking deeply into Taron’s eyes. 

“I just don’t want you to pretend like you do for my sake,” Taron said, and _Christ_, Richard thought, _he looks like a baby_. His face was soft and the weight he’d gained had made it even softer, his sharp jawline obscured by the few extra pounds, his cheeks fuller and rounder. His eyes were wide and he looked ready for Richard to disappoint him, and it made Richard’s heart sink. 

Richard crawled up the bed and wrapped his arms around Taron, marveling as always at the way they just _fit_ together. Taron’s head tucked under his chin, Richard’s fingers brushing the small of his back. He was acutely aware of the way Taron’s soft little tummy brushed against him, marveled at the contrast between them, and he resisted the urge to lay his hands on it again. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you. I can’t explain it, T. I know it might seem weird, but I just...fuck, I like your little pudge. I like your tummy, and your thighs, and your bum,” Richard said, giving it a small squeeze. “I even like your chubby face,” he said, dropping a kiss onto his cheek sweetly. 

“Oh, bloody hell, my _face is fat?_” Taron cried in distress, and Richard let out a laugh, kissed the top of his head and rubbed small, comforting circles on his back. 

“Your face is fine, love. Better than fine,” Richard assured him. “I meant what I said last night, Taron. I like you like this, but I’ll help you if you want to get back in fighting shape.” 

“Don’t know what I want yet,” Taron muttered quickly, and Richard nodded. 

“That’s fine.”

“It’s not that I don’t like this, because it feels _good_, being with you like this, but...aren’t fat blokes supposed to be unattractive? You’re _Richard fucking Madden_, people lust over you everywhere, you have, like, -2% body fat. The fact that I bagged you in the first place was a bloody miracle,” Taron said.

Richard laughed. “Shut up. Fat blokes aren’t unattractive, and I’m bloody over the _moon_ for you, you arsehole, it’s quite annoying, actually.” Richard looked at him soberly again. “But the offer still stands. I want you comfortable, darlin’, whatever that means. But I do...like...this…” Richard said, punctuating each word with a soft rub of his tummy, a stroke of his thigh, his hand skimming over Taron’s prick. He kissed Taron, long and hard. “Got it?” 

Taron swallowed, his mouth dry. “Crystal clear.” 

Richard’s phone buzzed on the night stand and he fumbled for it. 

_Still on for this afternoon? Think you lovebirds will be able to drag yourselves away for us today?_

Richard smiled at Jamie’s text; after their failed dinner plans, they’d agreed to do lunch today. He looked over at Taron. “Better get ready, we can’t stand Jamie up again.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later, both men were showered and Richard was once again waiting in the living room for Taron. He’d been shooed out of their bedroom-”you’ll get too much pleasure out of watching me get dressed”-and relegated to the sofa, and he was flipping through the channels absent-mindedly. 

When Taron emerged, fifteen minutes later, Richard looked up from the sofa and couldn’t hide his jaw dropping. 

Taron had been living in sweatpants over the last few weeks, and last night had been the first time he’d tried on some clothes with a button and a zipper. For today, he’d found some jeans from his _Eddie_ days that would still do up, but they did little to hide the fact that he’d gained weight. Instead, they accentuated it, leaving nothing to the imagination. They hugged his hips so tightly that it was a marvel, and the material was stretched so tightly over his bum that Richard couldn’t believe Taron had been able to fit them over it. The button looked strained, to say the least, and the front of his jeans showed off his bulge shamelessly. He was wearing a sweater that had once been loose, but now clung to the curves of his body, outlining his tummy clearly, which was hanging over the tight waistband of his jeans. 

Richard went over to Taron, who looked a little embarrassed but had reclaimed the confident spark in his eyes after Richard’s reassurance and cuddles that morning. Richard settled his hands on Taron’s hips, squeezing them and feeling the way the jeans stretched tightly over them. He then slipped his hands down and sank his fingers into his bum crudely, kissing Taron deeply while he did it. 

“Rich, my pants are tight enough as it is,” Taron whispered in his ear, and Richard’s hips nearly bucked. He pressed his body against Taron’s, removing one of his hands from Taron’s arse and laying it on his belly. He pressed down on it, hard, and felt Taron’s cock jump where he’d pinned his leg against it. 

“Cocky bastard, you know how good you look, don’t you?” Richard said, looking deep into Taron’s eyes. 

“I look like a land whale, Jamie’s going to have a right good time taking the piss out of this,” Taron said, his voice sounding worried but his face betraying the fact that he was still having fun with this. 

“I’ll yell at him if he does, love, I promise,” Richard said, kissing him again with a smile. 

“Should probably go shopping for some new clothes later, d’you reckon? After lunch maybe?” Taron muttered into the kiss.

Richard kissed along Taron’s jaw and down his neck, sucked softly on the skin there. “Shopping really won’t be on my mind after watching you eat lunch, my love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Credit for the term “golden boy” belongs to user heavensfallingaroundus :) 
> 
> I'm really nervous about posting this because I understand it's kind of a niche interest/kink/whatever, but fluffy Eddie the eagle Taron has always been my favorite and this just...was born from that. Thank you for reading, nice comments/kudos are love :) Find me on tumblr, my username is taste-thewaste, I post additional content on there, too :)


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